


Saudade

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Christmas, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-05
Updated: 2013-01-05
Packaged: 2017-11-23 16:50:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/624406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which remembering brings about the good and the bad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Saudade

**Author's Note:**

  * For [captaincalliope](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=captaincalliope).



> I wrote this as a secret santa gift.This is written from Mituna's perspective during what would be the Christmas season.Feedback is welcomed and encouraged!Sorry that it's a bit short.

They call it Christmas. You don’t remember why it’s “Christmas” or why they celebrate for only a day, but to be honest, you aren’t paying all that much attention to the explanation by the little pink boy in the vibrant blue pyjamas. You’re take much more interest in Latula who’s making fun of Kankri, saying he looks just like the humans’ large present toter.Santa, you think. You don’t really get it, but you laugh. You laugh so hard that little Kankri throws a fit and kicks you out. Tula manages to make a snide comment about an elf before being forcibly ejected from the little meeting. Later, Kankri scolds you and prattles on about “Respecting the cust9ms and ideas 9f 9ther species 6lah 6lah triggers 6lah”. You don’t really listen to him either. You can never understand him anyway. You can never understand a lot of things.

But you’re okay with that. You still understand Latula and none of that other stuff really matters.  
***  
She holds your hand and you walk around a whole bunch, whispering to each other and recalling fond memories. She talks about the holidays, about the last 12th Perigee’s Eve she spent with her lusus and how awesome she was. How she used to go out for days on end, scouring the forest around her hive for the best beast leavings. How you would come around and help set up some decorations and decorate the leavings, and how you got together the following sweep. Then she talks about the game and about how she regrets missing 12th Perigee’s that year. You listen to her, voice brimming with longing and bitterness, talking about how stupid it was to even play that stupid game and how she regrets that too. Putting everyone through so much danger. And...then her voice lilts. She chuckles a bit, coming across as pitiful and awkward. She starts getting still and quiet. You notice things about her in moments like these: the way her thin lips crease around the edges, how her shoulders droop, the way her eyes lose their shine. But as quickly as it occurs, her features fade and return to that toothy smile you’re used to, twinkling and bright as always.  
***  
You wake up to the sound of weeping again. 

Latula stays the night in your block sometimes. And sometimes you begin to believe it’s more for her sake than yours. Last night, she showed up and the two of you were playing around with some old game grubs. You remember totally owning her and gloating a bit. She’s always such a good sport, never minding your complaints or insults. She knows you never mean it. She placed a quick kiss upon your lips and the two of you were off to sleep. And yet, this morning, you find her sulking against the corner of your respite block, doubled over in tears. Why is she crying? You quietly make your way behind her. “Tula?”,you say in a hushed tone, hoping not to startle her. At this point, her breathing is hitched and her face is dyed in teal. She doesn’t seem to hear you, so you kneel down and take your usual spot next to her, not another word spoken. It’s hard. You have so much to ask and you hate seeing her cry like that; it makes her look so weak and pitiful, not like the Latula you know, always so vibrant. So you just sit and wait, her head pillowed comfortably in the crook of your neck. It’s hard to stay quiet, but something’s preventing you from speaking. Tula would praise you for your self control. You sit patiently, waiting for her to still. Maybe later, she'll praise you for being so good.

Eventually, after her breathing evens out and the tears cease to flow, she speaks. She’s speaking too low for you to register. All you can make out is something about Kurloz. You just sit there, watching her break into a million pieces again right before your eyes. Your suit burns with her tears. She’s speaking, close to screaming, murmuring about a knight and or some night or maybe both. You feel like you’re going to explode. She’s saying too much and your head hurts it hurts it hurts. You just want to turn it all off and then she just wails into your chest, “I wasn't there.” Then there’s a sudden silence and she goes limp. You’re left even more confused, but you’re too relieved to do anything but wrap your gangly arms around her slender waist, embracing her. She’s shaking a bit, but that’s okay; she’s quiet again. Soon, you’re stroking her head, mimicking her soothing gestures for every time she coddled you whenever you would fall into any of your moods. Before long, everything goes still.  
***  
You don’t know how much time has passed but you don’t really care, still sitting in the same spot, Tula limp with exhaustion, asleep in your lap. You think that you’ll try coaxing her out of your block later. The humans wanted to celebrate their freaky “Christmas” holiday with everyone today, and you aren't too inclined to partake in the festivities, but you think the lights they hung are pretty. It pales in comparison to 12th Perigee's, but maybe the both of you can appreciate it, just like old times.

Maybe she’ll even smile again.


End file.
